


The Wayspace

by sw1tch_sh1ft



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sw1tch_sh1ft/pseuds/sw1tch_sh1ft
Summary: “What?” Tommy asked. He already knew he wouldn’t like her answer.“It’s Wilbur.” Niki said.“I know.” He answered. Time seemed to slow; it felt as if the two were in a bubble. “I know he did it. I should have known-”“No.” Niki interrupted, and Tommy’s heart broke a bit more for her, seeing her, hearing her. “It’s not that. Wilbur- he’s-”“He’s dead.”Tubbo's been missing since his painless- and colorful- display at the festival. With his best friend's sudden absence, Tommy makes a rash decision and takes it out on the person directly responsible. Techno agrees to the challenge, and Tommy is defeated with swift brutality.And then, there's Tubbo.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	1. And there was Tubbo

The blow was quick and devastating. Tommy felt no pain; he was there, in the pit, kneeling in front of Techno- until he wasn’t.

He opened his eyes and found himself on a beach, at sunset. The dying sun bled bold shades of red and gold into the darkening sky, and the waves whispered a lulling story as the tide pulled out. He was sitting right at the shoreline, his legs half bent and his body relaxed. He bore no markings of the fight that was finished with brutal swiftness mere seconds ago. 

He sensed a presence next to him and looked over-

And there was Tubbo.

Still in his suit that he wore in the festival, but now it was ragged and torn- the skin beneath burned and stained vibrant colors. His hair was matted with blood, and his face was covered in a web of- of what appeared to be- fireworks?

Something seized up in Tommy then, like a giant fist gripping his chest. Tubbo’s eyes had a deep, moving emotion in them- something between love, longing, and apprehension. Tommy had never felt so adored, and yet so feared. Tubbo sighed and looked out at the sky, reflecting in the ocean in brilliant colors, and Tommy did the same. They stayed in silence as the sun slowly dipped further and further below the horizon. As the last sliver succumbed to darkness, Tommy felt Tubbo look over. He kept his gaze on the sky, and as the stars started to blink into existence, Tubbo placed his hand on Tommy’s shoulder. 

And then the sun was gone.

And so was Tubbo.


	2. I’ve heard what you’ve done

Wilbur gasped. The sound of rushing waves filled his ears, and the scent of salt and water greeted his nose. He coughed as he sat up and opened his eyes; bright colors assaulted his vision- brilliant pinks and reds and purples and golds filled the sky and reflected in the ocean.

He took a deep breath and looked around. He was on a beach somewhere he didn’t recognize- far, far away from M- L-

L’manberg? Manberg?

The sand was soft under his bare feet. Not sure of what he was doing, he staggered down to the shoreline and didn’t stop until he was knee-deep in the water, nearly falling over in his rush. Waves lapped at his legs as his ragged breath slowed and he glanced backwards.

Behind and slightly to the right of him, a lone figure was standing in the waves as well.

Wilbur flinched. The figure’s clothing, probably once a very nicely tailored suit, was burned and torn, exposing blistered, charred skin. His face was covered in a net of colorful spark-shaped burns.

Tubbo.

With a cry, Wilbur stumbled forward. He would have kept going, if he didn’t see the other cringe away. He stopped several feet away.

“Tubbo?” He gasped. “Where have you been?” He looked around frantically. “Where are we?”

“I’ve heard what you’ve done, Wilbur.” Tubbo’s voice was smooth and emotionless. His eyes were focused on the distant horizon.

“You-” Wilbur’s mind was reeling.

“Karl, Niki, Quackity, they all told me what you did.” Finally, Tubbo tore his gaze away from the sun. They had in them such a deep, raw emotion that Wilbur had to look away.

“I don’t care who told you to do it.” Tubbo continued. His voice shook with a barely discernible emotion, and he stopped for a moment. When he continued, it was smooth and flat again. “I just want to know why.”

Tubbo took a step forward, and Wilbur backed up. The sky was rapidly darkening.

“Why, Wilbur? Why did you do it?” Tubbo’s voice cracked with emotion. “Why?”

Thoughts raced in Wilbur’s mind. _My L’manberg!_ He wanted to shout, to echo his own words. _If I can’t have it,_ no one _can!_ But he couldn’t say it.

“I don’t know.” He managed instead. The sky was nearly black now. Tubbo nodded.

“That’s all I wanted to know.” He said.

The two met each other’s gaze for a long, excruciating moment. The sun was gone.

Tubbo nodded.

And then Wilbur was gone, too.


	3. It's Wilbur

Tommy screamed. There weren’t any discernible words, not after the first, “NO!” when L’manberg was blown to kingdom come. Just a long, plaintive cry.  
Dream laughed- his malicious joy echoed off of the crater where buildings once stood. His sword was still sheathed, and his arms were crossed. Even though his face wasn’t visible, it was clear he was smirking.  
Tommy saw red.

The only thing that stopped him from rushing Dream was a dizzying memory of a very similar situation- one that ended in Wilbur grabbing Tommy’s shoulders and shouting, “Tommy, calm!” until Tommy was, in fact, calm enough to think things through.

Wilbur wasn’t here to do that.

If Tubbo was here, he would have done it.

But Tubbo wasn’t here either.

Tommy wrapped his arms around himself instead, and spat at Dream’s feet.

“You-” He snarled, shaking with anger, “You- you convinced him to do this- you lying, traitorous bastard-”

“I’m not a traitor.” Dream said loftily. “I never belonged to Manberg in the first place. I can’t betray something I don’t belong to-”

All of Tommy’s restraint dissolved. He tackled Dream, and though he was shorter, he had surprise on his side, and the taller man went down.

“Tommy!” Someone cried.

“You ruined everything!” Tommy shouted, frustration leaking from him in the form of tears. “You took everything I had, and you twisted it- broke it- made it unrecognizable-”

Someone grabbed Tommy under the arms and hauled him bodily backwards; Dream scrambled back, his gaze trained on Tommy. His cheek was bleeding where Tommy had scratched him. It was funny, Tommy thought dimly, he didn’t even remember attacking him.

“Tommy.”

He looked around wildly to see who had dragged him away as he blinked away a haze of tears. Niki, wiping her eyes with her sleeve, was the only person behind him.

“What?” He asked. He already knew he wouldn’t like her answer.

“It’s Wilbur.” She said.

“I know.” He answered. Time seemed to slow; it felt as if the two were in a bubble. “I know he did it. I should have known-”

“No.” Niki interrupted, and Tommy’s heart broke a bit more for her, seeing her, hearing her. “It’s not that. Wilbur- he’s-”

“He’s dead.” Suddenly Quackity was there, too- standing behind Niki, one hand on her shoulder, the other wrapped around his stomach. His side was bleeding, Tommy noted. He had a vague memory of the explosion launching Quackity in the air. Tommy had wondered if he was going to survive.

Suddenly Tommy was standing up, grabbing for his fallen sword, scrambling towards spawn.

“Tommy, where are you going?” Niki cried.

“If there’s any chance that bastard is still alive,” Tommy snarled with as much vehemence as he could muster, “then I’m going to make sure he won’t respawn a second time.”


	4. How could you, man?

Breath caught in Wilbur’s chest as he experienced the uniquely unpleasant experience of respawning. A heavy weight was settled low in his stomach- in the approximate place where Phil- where Phil-

Phil stabbed him, right?

Right.

Wilbur groaned as he sat up, clutching one hand to his head. No matter how many times he got lucky, he would never get used to respawning without a crystal. He felt like he was hungover.

“Wilbur.”

The voice was quiet, insistent, cold. Familiar. Wilbur forced his eyes open and squinted upwards at the figure standing over him. The figure who was Tommy, still in his suit, both hands clutching a sword whose tip was resting gently on Will’s throat. Wilbur could see him trembling.

“Tommy.” Wilbur whispered.

“How could you, man?” Tommy’s facade broke for a moment, and a tear slipped down his cheek. His voice cracked. “L’manberg, it was everything we needed. We were so close, Will! So close!” His voice rose, and with effort he lowered it again.

“Why?” He whispered. “Why did you do it?”

Wilbur had no answer.

“I’m going to kill you now.” Tommy said, then took a deep breath. “You know that, right? After everything you did, after betraying us all, you have to know that I can’t possibly-”

“I saw Tubbo.” Wilbur whispered. Tommy’s angry tirade broke off. He stared at Wilbur for a long moment. His chest rose and fell rapidly.

“You’re a liar.” He spat finally. He readjusted his grip on his sword. “Tubbo wouldn’t want to talk to you, of all people.”

“He did, Tommy, I- I promise.” Wilbur’s voice sounded ragged, even to himself. “He- we were on a beach, and he was still in his suit from the festival, and I-”

“What did he say to you?” Tommy demanded. “Did he say anything?”

Wilbur hesitated. He didn’t want to- it only made him seem suspicious- but try as he might, he just couldn’t _remember-_

“I- I think he asked why I did it.”

“You _think?”_ Tommy snarled. The tip of his sword dug into Will’s throat a bit, and Wilbur winced as a bead of blood trickled down his neck and into his shirt.

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t remember-” He started. Tommy leaned forward, his shaking hands somehow keeping the sword steady.

“Tommy, don’t.” Suddenly Phil was behind Tommy, one hand on his shoulder. Tommy barely flinched. Will glanced sideways and saw Niki, Quackity, and Karl standing just inside the door, their faces somber. He looked away quickly.

“Tommy-” Wilbur tried.

“Shut the _fuck_ up!” Tommy howled, and, surprising Wil, he backed up- only to rush forward and slam his sword into Will’s chest.

_He missed._

Or at least, that was Wilbur’s impression.

At first, it seemed as if Tommy only struck him with the flat side of his blade, pushing him backwards and onto his back. He was so dazed all colors seemed to be drained from his vision, and the world glowed with a soft yellow light. Crossly, he stood and turned to face a horrified-looking Tommy and a shocked Phil.

‘What?’ He wanted to ask, but his throat felt as if it had been sealed off, closed like an ancient tomb.

‘Guys?’ he tried, but the words stubbornly refused to form in his mouth.

“...Wilbur?” Tommy said finally, having dropped his blood-stained sword. Slowly, Wilbur realized that his body was still lying in bed, and that he could no longer feel the floor beneath his feet, or the warmth of the torches on the walls. If he had a heart, it would have dropped. But he didn’t.


End file.
